The Bat, the Amazon, and the Experiment
by Lady Dorkness
Summary: A story where Batman is forced to decide between saving Diana and killing for her. Added Chapter Two!
1. Prologue

**_Prologue_**

Bruce isn't stupid. Maybe that sounds like a truism but he has to remind himself daily either with words or with actions. This person he calls "Bruce Wayne" acts the fool and plays the role and doesn't exist any more than the Grey Ghost really exists. Bruce was reborn in that alleyway as someone else, someone he didn't dare name until after Andrea came and left and broke him in her own way that first time. The man he is, the half-man, the Batman, is known for his mind, an intellect so sharp it cuts the rest to ribbons.

Genius is kin to madness. He's smarter than everyone else in the room, no matter what room, and too often he's trapped in rooms with madmen. Gibbering, capering, cackling, killing monsters, also broken. Just like him.

Not stupid. He's not. He knows the one line he won't cross, mustn't cross. He knows who and what he has to be, to separate himself from those others, those cracked and crumbling shells.

He doesn't kill.

He won't kill.

He can kill.

Sometimes he wants to kill.

He doesn't let himself. If he did, he'd be no different from the insane scum he scrapes from the street and sweeps into Arkham and Blackgate.

That's why he's burning tonight, why he stares into the flames of his own madness and is afraid to look away. Tonight he is going to kill, for her.

After that, nothing matters.

(To be continued?)


	2. Chapter 1

**_Chapter One_**

Night is always old. No matter where you are, in what crowded city or deserted jungle, night creeps in on rotting and decayed paws, and you stare into its ancient face and maybe you blink and maybe you don't. Those who stare too deeply go insane, and then Bruce has to drag them bodily from the bloody edges they carve to where they cannot hurt anyone else.

Bruce doesn't blink in the face of the night. He knows every crevasse and wrinkle, every tag of dead skin that the zombie darkness wears. The night is an old friend, or at the minimum it is not an enemy, and sometimes that's the same.

Tonight he is cloaked in shadows, his favorite suit, as he watches them from the opposite rooftop. Even if one looked directly at him, there would be nothing to betray Bruce, not even the presence of darker shades of night.

The word came from the Watchtower an hour ago:

_"We're not sure how they ambushed her," said Mister Terrific. "They want you, alone. I've got two teams on alert waiting for my signal."_

_And Bruce responded: "I'm going alone."_

She's bound with her own lasso. He cursed whoever had revealed that nugget of information to the public, that Diana could be rendered helpless with the use of her own equipment. The men, all is masks as dark as Bruce's own, leered at her, though the way one limped Bruce knew she'd gotten in her own blows. She was still clothed, and none of them were touching her. Small favors.

He readied his batarangs. At the last time he'd timed himself, he could release four in less than two seconds. He'd incapacitate them before they even had a chance to react. Life was easier when the enemy was this stupid.

They crossed back and forth randomly. He waited until noen stood directly behind her.

With slick, practiced movemtns, he rose, aimed, and threw the batarangs. The first two bounced off a green field that appeared suddenly around the rooftop tableau but he'd already thrown the other two and could not stop them.

The men instantly spied his position and aimed their weapons. Bruce was already gone, merged with the shadows in another nearby building.

He'd given away his presence, and worse, he'd done so without so much as touching any of Diana's captors. He cursed again, even as one of the men placed a hand to his ear.

"Ah, Detective," came a too-familiar voice from elsewhere in the shadows. "I was hoping you would join us."

(to be continued?)


	3. Chapter 2

**_Chapter Two_**

The green field shimmered and disappeared. Instead of the tableau of Diana and her captors, Bruce saw Ra's Al Ghul standing there alone.

"Please come join me, Detective."

Bruce readied another batarang and considered throwing it. He growled from his shadow, "Where is Wonder Woman?"

"Princess Diana is unharmed, I assure you. She is my guest. Elsewhere, as you have doubtless elucidated. Holographics are so crude, but effective."

Indeed. Bruce hadn't even noticed, so caught up had he been in rescuing her. Not a mistake he would make again. Even as he watched, the image of Ra's twitched.

"What do you want?"

"I require your assistance in a particular matter. If you aid me, I will return your woman to you. If you do not, then you may grieve for her for the rest of your life. It is your choice."

Bruce focused. Right now, Terrific would be up on the Watchtower triangulating the position of the transmission for the holographic projection. If he could stall the Demon's Head, he might still have a chance to locate Diana.

"Tell me what you want me to do."

(to be continued?)


End file.
